


A Pack of Crushed Cigarettes

by deepforestowl



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 19:18:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepforestowl/pseuds/deepforestowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roslin has a rash, Cottle has the ointment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pack of Crushed Cigarettes

A Pack of Crushed Cigarettes  
By: deepforestowl  
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica  
Rating: NC 17  
Pairing: Cottle/Roslin  
Spoilers: Through Season 2.0  
Disclaimer: Moore's the man with the master plan.  
Note: For alesia027 in the Get Laura Laid ficathon.  
Summary: Roslin has a rash, Cottle has the ointment.

 

President Laura Roslin stood rather impatiently in her paper gown. The pain from her breast cancer was bad enough but to suffer this indignity of a rash in her delicate areas was just too much. Here, in the safe harbor of Doc Cottle's sickbay in the middle of the night, she let a few tears escape. Gripping the table under her more securely, she closed her eyes and took deep cleansing breaths, and thought with a certain longing back to Adar. He may have been a prick but he was good in bed and if nothing else, Laura was a sexual creature. She mused that she missed sex, and now as President, and a dying one at that, she knew that the reality was that she would probably never have sex again much less make love to anyone. Laura knew that Commander Adama felt something for her and she suspected that it was something stronger than either of them could ever admit to. She did her best not to encourage him, but the feeling of isolation in her position forced her to rely on him and one other person in the fleet who understand her best: Doc Cottle.

So here she was, crying, in a flimsy hospital gown that didn't cover much because, in the end, she knew that Cottle wouldn't say anything to anyone and if she couldn't break down in front of the man who was treating her and keeping her secrets, who could she trust?

Doc Cottle grumbled under his breath and puffed on his cigarette as he made his way to the closed off exam room. Roslin had sent one of her typical cryptic messages about needing to see him which he had interpreted as cancer related and which had gotten him out of bed to his empty sickbay. He told the orderly on duty to take a very long coffee break and went to his office to grab her chart from the locked drawer in his desk. The truth was, he was worried about her. She took only half the pain meds that she should have been taking and her dosage for the Chamalla was higher than he would have liked. He pushed aside the opaque curtain to see the President leaning against the exam table, her head down and her fiery hair obscuring her face but from the way she trembled, Cottle knew that she was crying. "What can I do for you Madame President?" He gave her a moment to compose herself.

Roslin took a few deep breaths and lifted her head up. Cottle was standing in front her, tissue in hand, which she took with a grateful, if watery, smile. After blowing her nose and wiping her eyes, her voice wavering, "I have a rash that has broken out all over my body." Roslin turned around and let the paper gown come forward so that her entire backside was exposed.

Now, Cottle had seen more human naked bodies in his life than most people except maybe morgue workers and pornographers, but even he had to admit that Laura Roslin was a damn fine woman. She had those legs that went on forever and a shapely ass that probably fit well into his hands, not that he would ever take advantage of his patient that way. Shoving thoughts of her rather beautiful female form from his head, he examined her skin. Her entire body was slightly red, but she had bands of redness where her underthings touched her skin. The sweetly rounded ass that he had been admiring a second ago was the color of a ripe strawberry. He murmured in her ear, "I am going to touch your back." With gentle fingers, he touched the rash on her back where her bra would normally rest. The skin was hot to the touch and she hissed and then sighed at his touch.

Cottle raised an eyebrow at her response. "How does the rash feel?" She took a deep breath in response and responded a shakily, "It burns and is itchy." He asked her a few more questions about the rash, when did it start, etc but during the entire time, he never took his hand off her back, instead he continued to caress her ever so gently with feather light touches, almost absentmindedly. "I think it is a reaction to whatever they are using to wash your clothes. It's probably been brought on by your condition and the medication you are on. I'll order the laundry to use a special detergent on your clothing and I'll give you an ointment to apply to it to help it clear up more quickly." He removed his hand to get a tube of the ointment.

Unable to stand it anymore, Laura let out a whimpering sob, "Please, Jack." Concerned, Cottle whipped around to face her once more, "What's wrong? Are you in pain?" She let out a strangled laugh, "Not the kind of pain you are thinking, Jack. I've been feeling almost uncontrollably horny and as equally undesirable because of my position and my condition." She looked at him, meeting his eyes with her own challenging gaze. "Can you help me in the way that I need to be helped, as a patient and as a woman?"

Startled, Cottle met her stare with his own introspective one. He fished out another cigarette, lit it, and took a very satisfying drag on it. Cottle had heard a lot in his time as a doctor for the colonial fleet, but to be honest, he had rarely been propositioned by his patients. His shitty bedside manner tended to put them off and he typically hustled them out the proverbial door so fast that they never had a chance to even think about getting into his pants. He was an old man for the Gods sakes, but she had a point.

Throat suddenly tight, "Take off your gown." he whispered. She lowered her arms and the gown slid down her body like the wisp of paper that it was. There she stood in all of her naked glory and this time, Jack wasn't looking at her with a doctor's eye. This time he saw her as he saw her in his fantasies at night. She was gorgeous in a way that only a woman in command and a woman who was dying could be. She lifted herself onto the exam table. He came forward, looking down at her, he squeezed some of the ointment onto his fingers. His hand shaking slightly, he rested his fingers between her breasts for a moment. Seemingly gathering his courage, he started to spread the ointment around. His touch was light and meant to soothe and entice. He wasn't a doctor for nothing.

He rubbed the ointment into her chest and then into each breast, using his gentlest touch on her left breast where her death lay lurking. He gently tugged and teased her nipples, bringing them to full mast. All the while she panted quietly. When he had touched her traitorous breast, she had closed her eyes and he saw her eyes crease with pain, but she didn't ask him to stop and so he continued. He worked his way down her body, lavishing attention on her with the patience that only doctors have when it matters. He worked his way around her delicate hips, following the line of her body to her swollen sex. Her lips glistened with moisture. He spread the ointment into her mons, along her inner thighs, working ever closer her glistening slit. All composure gone, Laura sobbed, "Please, Jack."

He hadn't meant to be cruel in holding out on her. He blushed a bit as he rubbed her lips with the ointment. She was so slick that he slipped between them sooner than he had wanted to. She gasped and let out a whimper. He eased a finger into her tight pussy and then another one. She moaned quietly and started thrusting her hips in time to his thrusts. He eased his thumb over her clit and made small circles with it. Laura thrashed her head and grabbed a hold of the table with one had while throwing out her other hand for him. He grasped it strongly with his free hand and watched her as she arched her back and gripped his hand more tightly than he had expected. "Laura, look at me." She snapped her eyes open as he thrust into her with his fingers. "Let yourself come woman. Don't worry, I'm not done with you yet."

She grinned at him and in that moment, she went from lonely and needing to get laid, to the playful lover she had been before the holocaust. She clenched his fingers hard with her pussy as she came. He smiled at her and left his fingers in her as she rode out the aftershocks. He brought their clasped hands to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. Laura was definitely blissed out but mustered up some coherency to murmur, "Such a gentleman." "Always." Cottle gruffly replied. He eased his fingers out of her and she mewed with disappointment. His eyes flashing humor, "Greedy." He brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled her scent. She watched him closely as he smelled her and he could see a very becoming blush start in her neck and turn her face beat red as she watched him lick his fingers clean.

A hungry smile on his face, "Ready for round two?" She nodded slowly. "Good. Turn over and I'll spread this on your back." He held up the ointment and with a look of satisfaction on her face, Laura rolled over on the metal table. The ointment glistening on her skin made her slide on the table a bit so she wrapped her hands around the edges and used her feet to hold her steady on the table as well, thereby spreading her shapely legs. Jack smirked, squeezed ointment onto his hands and began to massage it gently into her back. He worked the stuff into her bra area with a light touch, but in other areas, like her shoulders and lower back, he used it more as a massage oil than a rash ointment. He kneaded her muscles until she was audibly purring and had about as much bone structure as an amoeba. After he had her relaxed, his massage turned more sensual. She spread her legs a little wider and he deftly teased her wet pussy with his fingers, rubbing her clit occasionally.

She twisted around to look at him. He removed his hands from her body and while she watched him, he unzipped and pulled his cock out. He was fully hard and the head was an angry red and weeping slightly. He fisted himself while he looked at her. She licked her lips and used the greased surface of the table to slide around so that her face was near his crotch. She opened her mouth and he obligingly stepping forward and offered himself up to her. She took the head into her mouth and he moaned quietly. He hadn't been with anyone in quite sometime himself. "Gods, Laura." His voice was breathy and deep, "You have to stop or I am going come." She increased her suction and encouraged him to thrust by pulling him closer to her. He happily obliged. Laura cupped his balls in her hand and as she felt them start to tighten up towards his body, she pulled them down, giving him a dry orgasm. His voice was strangled, "Where did you learn that woman?" His cock went to half mast and she let him rest for a moment. She looked up at him and said rather dryly, "I hate to say it Jack, but politics in the past wasn't always who you knew or your values, sometimes it was who and how well you fucked." "Damn" he muttered and then gasped as she once again took him into her mouth and worked his cock back to full hardness. Once he began to thrust into her mouth, she pulled away from him.

She spun around on the slick table until she could wrap her legs around him. Jack yanked his lab coat and tanks off, but didn't have enough time to get his pants off as her legs encircled his waist. She reached down and guided him into her, both of them gasping as he slid into her hot and soaking wet pussy. She buried her head in his neck and he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of her hair. He reached down, grabbed her perfect ass in his large hands and hefted her up, settling her more firmly on his cock. He walked over to the wall and leaned her against it for more support and began to thrust. Laura's legs firmly wrapped around his waist and her hands roaming over and clawing at his back, if this wasn't bliss, Jack didn't know what was. Shortly, he felt her tightening around his cock and when she came, she bit down hard on his shoulder to stifle her scream of ecstasy. He rode out her orgasm, thrust a few more time, and then threw his head back, the muscles of his neck, shoulders, and back going rigid as he bit off his own scream and came deep within the President of the Twelve Colonies.

As they both came down from their high, they realized just how damn uncomfortable they were. She unlocked her legs from where they had slipped down his hips and he carefully helped her stand. They were both panting heavily and she leaned her forehead against his own. "Thanks Jack." He laughed, "My pleasure Laura." They both regained their breath after a few minutes and then he helped her back to the exam table. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a crushed pack of cigarettes. He looked at them and then at her, "You owe me a pack of smokes Madame President. I'll have you know that these are hard to find these days," he grumbled. He lit one of the flattened cigarettes anyway and took a deep drag only to be startled when she took it from his fingers, raised it to her lips, and took a deep drag herself. "Jack, you are the most aggravating doctor I have ever had the displeasure to meet, but you are also probably one of the best." "Why thank you Laura, I could say the same things about you." She smiled that enigmatic smile of hers and then proceeded to smoke his cigarette while he lit another one for himself.

The next day, the slightly sleep deprived, tired, and somewhat sore, Doc Cottle stepped into his office to find a pack of cigarettes and a note. "Next time, watch where you put your cigarettes and they won't get crushed." He let out a bark of laughter and reached for the phone to call Colonial One's laundry.


End file.
